


anticipation's on the other line & obsession called while you were out

by honeysparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Dean Winchester Support Group", Awkward Conversations, Banter, Blurb, Canon Divergence, Conversations, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Gen, John is alive even though this is set when Dean bears the Mark of Cain, Mark of Cain, Rare Characters, this was written while i was stuck in an hour-long traffic jam so?? it probably sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysparks/pseuds/honeysparks
Summary: In which John begrudgingly teams up with a vampire and an immortal killing machine to try to help his son.Spoiler: it doesn't go very well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'the calendar' by p!atd,, 
> 
> i don't even know what this piece is ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

A vampire, a hunter, and a Knight of Hell walk into a bar. It's like the world's worst joke ever- except that it's not.

John's hunted vampires on a fairly often basis, so he figures that one Benny Lafitte is nothing he can't handle. If things go sour (and he's convinced they will) he'll decapitate the son of a bitch, and that'll be that.

But Cain? A Knight of Hell? He's got zilch on how to wipe him off the map. That keeps a frown on John's face. He doesn't like not knowing how to kill something; it makes him the prey rather than the predator.

But they have bigger problems than John's sulky admittance to him playing out of his league. They have Dean and the Mark on his arm.

"Good thing we fit the image of buddies out on bowlin' night, eh?" Benny chuckles. Cain's mouth tilts up just a little, maybe. John's scowl deepens. They order their drinks; John has a whiskey on the rocks, and Benny goes for one 'extra plain' beer.

Cain throws back three shots of tequila with no wince or flinch. John stares in grudging respect. "Practice makes perfect," is all Cain is willing to offer as explanation.

John understands. He's done nothing to earn even the slightest sliver of a backstory from the man destined to murder the world.

Benny's making a face at the beer in his mug, and John quietly tells him that it's alright, he doesn't have to drink it to fit in.

Benny only laughs, says he knows the bartender- really knows him. When he tilts the beer bottle toward John, John nearly slaps himself for having missed it in the first place. It's blood. Diluted, which is probably why Benny was scowling at it, but blood nonetheless.

"So," Cain clears his throat after a few more moments of silence, "Are we going to talk about what we're here to discuss? Or do we plan on getting hammered first? Because if so, I'm warning you; it'll take more than the two rounds of shots you've ordered."

John appreciates the slight humour in his voice, he supposes. It serves to lighten the mood, and that's something he'll need if he's going to make it through the night without killing one of the three of them.

"It's Dean, isn't it." Benny's voice is rough with an emotion John can't place.

He's known about Dean's little trip to Purgatory for some time now; known about his friendship with the vampire. (Though neither one of his sons pick up his calls, word spreads quick and easy in the hunter community.) And while John would never, not in a million years, condone a relationship of any kind between hunter and hunted, he can't be angry at Dean for finding a way to survive. John knows he's in a glass house, and therefore in no position to start throwing stones.

But that was survival, not leisure, and certainly not fun. So why was there an unmistakeable layer of concern in Benny's voice? They weren't in Purgatory any longer, so why did he care what happened to Dean?

Benny must notice the look of confusion flashing across John's face, because he smiles thinly and shakes his head, taking another long swig from his mug. "'S complicated, chief," he shrugs, "But all you gotta know is that I care about the kid."

Cain rolls his eyes, clearing his throat again. "I doubt either of you noticed or cared, but I'm through with two more rounds of shots and I suggest we get on with this 'Dean Winchester Support Group.'"

It's not like John has been waiting for a chance to pounce, but the moment the words are past Cain's lips, he's turning to him with a sneer and a shift in his seat which indicates that he's absolutely ready to get violent.

Cain raises an eyebrow, as if to remind John just who he's talking to. It works. "So," John says through gritted teeth, "Let's gather the facts: Dean took on the Mark in order to defeat the last Knight of Hell, Abbadon." As he speaks, he narrows his eyes ever so slightly at Cain, as if to imply that he shouldn't have given him the mark in the first place. "When he decided to take on the Mark, everyone collectively decided to keep from telling him that it would take a toll on him, far beyond what he'd ever imagined."

Cain interrupts, a displeased look on his face. "I did warn him," he protests. "I told him that with it would come a terrible cost."

Benny snorts. "Ain't that a transparent warning, brother," he chuckles before throwing his hands up defensively as Cain stares him down.

"Knowing Dean, he wouldn't have listened had Cain listed down each and every consequence in gory detail," John mutters.

For the first time that evening, Cain's mouth tilts into a half-smile as he nods. "He just might be your son, after all."


End file.
